


FE3H Miscellania

by clericalchar (selstarry)



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Bittersweet, Character Study, Ficlet Collection, Flash Fic, Gen, I'm into like 2.5 characters so you know what to expect, Kid Fic, Ruler/minister, making up names for unnamed characters, ruler/minister dynamic is the most delicious dynamic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2020-09-24 14:57:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20360440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/selstarry/pseuds/clericalchar
Summary: Character studies and other odds and ends.





	1. Name [Edelgard+Hubert]

**Author's Note:**

> So I actually have the game now... but I won't have the time to play it anytime soon. In fact I really shouldn't be staying up late to write these, but ideas gonna idea. I have so many one-off premises at this point that I felt the need for an actual multichapter collection for them.
> 
> This one is an expanded outtake from a long-ish (by my standards) Hubert kidfic I'm working on that attempts to square a whole bunch of pre-canon circles. It is somewhat difficult to do plotty things without actually having witnessed the plot firsthand, so that's probably not gonna see the light of day for a while. But for now:

Before, her sisters would call her El. A little name for a little girl, the baby of the family for many years, until dear Lise and Adelheid came along.

In the palace, bereft of her mother for as long as she could remember, she lived on the sweetness of her sisters' affection. They braided her hair and soothed her tears and snuck her bites of cake. They dressed her up and kissed her cheeks, and kissed her more when she squirmed. She was their darling El, pretty as a doll, their dearest baby sister.

Hubert has only ever called her Lady Edelgard.

Not in the way the nobles said it, looking down, with the condescension of greeting a child in grown-up’s garb. Not in the way the servants said it, empty and dutiful. Even then, he’d said it in deadly seriousness, with a thrilling, grave intensity. From his lips, her name could belong to the grand histories they would read, side by side, from the weighty tomes that took the both of them to lift from the library shelves.

It’s been so many years. It hurts to look back. In dreams, she longs for someone to hold her tight and call her El again.

In the hard-edged waking world, she listens to Hubert say her name like it’s worth dying for, and draws her axe for battle.


	2. End [Edelgard+Hubert]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The AU where the Emperor is not Edelgard and the Minister of the Imperial Household kills him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have this idea for an AU where the experimentation never happened, Edelgard's siblings are all alive, and everything ends up sad anyway. Hubert, as Minister of the Imperial Household to Edelgard's unimpressive older sibling, is miserable serving a ruler he doesn't respect. Edelgard, as a minor Imperial princess with a ministerial sinecure, is endlessly frustrated in her attempts to push through even minor reforms, butting heads at court with Ferdinand and many of her own siblings. Then they interact, Hubert's finds his Higher Calling a decade or two late, and he takes matters into his own hands.
> 
> To pull off this idea properly would probably take a five-digit word count with lots of intrigue and exposition and doomed 知己 dynamics. Instead, I wrote the juiciest bit of drama and called it a day.

1100 years of tradition ends unwitnessed in Hubert von Vestra’s hands, red with the blood of the Emperor of Adrestia. Behind him, the double doors of the throne room groan open. Shouts and clangs spill in, then fade to the ringing footsteps of a single woman, sabatons on marble. But Edelgard is too late.

Hubert whirls, not to defend himself, but to look upon the face of his rightful lord and executioner. Permit him his indulgences. He has only a few moments left, and he will waste no more of them on a corpse.

She burns with fury and grief. She stalks toward him like an avenging saint. A bright, terrible joy fills Hubert’s heart to see her.

His throat aches with the words he cannot say. They are his burden, not hers.

_ You were not meant to break yourself kneeling before incompetents who will not accept reform, let alone revolution.  _

_ You will be the greatest Emperor of Adrestia in a thousand years. _

_ Would I have died in the service of an Emperor who did not deserve the name, or wasted away in a sickbed? You will make my death worth something.  
_

And as the axe falls, he thinks,  _ What honor, to paint your path with the red of my blood. _


	3. Edelbert Week: Crimson Path/Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to write at least something for Edelbert Week! It ended up based off of Hubert's ending card if he dies in CF!

Hubert's emperor is not a great correspondent by nature, preferring action to reflection, action to words. But for him, alongside every official dispatch, she sends a letter stamped with her personal signet. She senses what it means to him, that for a second time she has embarked on the road to Fhirdiad, and for a second time he cannot follow.

_We are two days' march from the Tailtean Plains. Your intelligence network is performing admirably in your absence. You would be proud to see the agents you've trained at work...  
_

_Do you remember learning about the great battles fought here with our tutor? They say that even today, you can find bronze spearheads washed up on the river's shore. If I find one, I will send it to you with my next letter..._

_Ensure you get adequate rest. I cannot forget how you looked when they carried you off Myrddin Bridge. Do not overexert yourself, and I hope that when I return I will see you recovered..._

Hubert is not a great correspondent by nature; he struggles to find words to enliven or comfort. But for her, he takes out ink and parchment and crafts a response.

_I assure you..._

The cough shakes his bones. When it's over, his mouth tastes of metal and corruption. Red stains the pale parchment.

He takes the page and drops it into the hearth fire. He begins anew.

_I assure you that... _

The flames crackle. He begins anew. 

_I assure you that I am well on my way to recovery. Do not trouble yourself with such thoughts of me on the eve of battle. I await your triumphant return..._

Last time, he saw her again, in the end. He can hope.


End file.
